"I am going to boarding-school this fall, and I don't believe I will have much of an allowance. My folks won't think it is wise, I know."
"A lot of people are like that," said Jardin. "Are you going away to school too, Frank?"
"I expect I am," said Frank. "I don't know where yet; the folks have not decided for either of us, but we hope we will go together; don't we, Bill?"
"Sure!" agreed Bill.
"Wish you knew where you were going," said Jardin. "I would make dad send me where you were. That would be a lark. The Big Three: how would that go for a name, eh?"
"Great!" said Bill absently. He finished the last spoonful of his ice-cream. "Let's go out and see the town," he suggested. "There is a shooting gallery around the corner that has the cutest moving targets I ever saw."
"That's the ticket!" said Jardin. "I can shoot almost better than I can do anything else."
They wandered out, and turned down to the shooting gallery. A soldier was leaning idly against the door frame. Bill looked twice, grabbed the young man in a bear hug.
"Lee, you old scamp!" he cried. "How did you happen to get here?"
The dark face of the handsome young half-breed lighted up. "I drove the car in," he answered. "Your mother is shopping and your father will come in with Colonel Spratt in time for dinner. I have been watching these people shoot. Are you boys going to try it?" He glanced at Jardin with a keen eye, then looked away instantly.